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Laughs.
“No. So you can move on? I want you to remember me. I want you to suffer.” He shakes his head and drops his hand from my mouth. “Suffer for me, sunshine. It’s the least you can do.”
I can’t move.
He bounds down the steps off the porch and crosses the yard between our houses in long strides. In a matter of moments, he’s gone.
My legs give out.
He’s right about one thing. I did suffer.
And I will remember.
60
KNOX
Suffer for me, sunshine.
Did I really say that to her?
There are no more chapters, but I can fill in some of the blanks. She went to a college that wasn’t in or near Crown Point. She stayed friends with Miles up until she left. Her mother died. She got a degree in something or other, graduated, wrote a book. Met Joel. Got engaged. Moved to Denver.
And for the first time in six years, we were in the same space.
Her mom is all over these pages. She worked hard for her daughter, to keep their family afloat. She was with us when we got married. She was alwaysthere, and while Aurora didn’t write it, I know she was there to pick up the pieces of her daughter that I smashed.
But the thing that haunts me the most is that Aurora had no idea why I turned on her like that. She and Beth, as far as I could tell, carried on their friendship like the latter didn’t do anything wrong.
She got what was coming to her, at least.
I don’t know what to do. I rush to the restroom, passing all my friends in the waiting room along the way, and my heart squeezes.
My brother and Willow, Jacob, Melody, Greyson, Violet, Steele, Aspen. Camden Church. He stuck around, after all.
There’s still flakes of blood under my nails. The closer I examine myself, the more I see the cracks in the façade Greyson tried to help me create. I take my time scrubbing myself clean, although part of me wants to rush to get itoff.
I dunk my head in the sink and let the cold water wash over me.
She was wet. Her shirt was soaked. There was a puddle under her that wasn’t just blood.
What kind of sickfuckdoes that to a girl? Overmoney?
I’m glad he’s dead. I would do it again. Easily. For her? No question.
Once I shake my head like a dog, getting water droplets everywhere, I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts.
My finger hovers over my mom’s name.
Mom, Aurora’s,is right beneath it.
I click her name. It’s been four years, but I hold my breath as the call rings through. I just want to hear her voice on the answering message, even if she’s just saying her name. Which is silly, because?—
“Hello?”
My mouth dries up.
“Hello?” the woman repeats.
